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Mara Amberly
Goodreads Author
Born
in Newcastle, Australia
Website
Twitter
Genre
Member Since
July 2016
More books by Mara Amberly…
“The boughs of trees stretched high overhead, leaves of dappled green and black mottling the sky. It was called the black forest for more reasons than the inky-black foliage. The wise and cautious seldom travelled by night along its poorly-tended roads, and banditry wasn’t the main reason. In the minds of many, shadows of a threat lurked in wait, seeking an opportunity to strike during a moment of weakness. It was known among the old folk that not all who dwelled within the black forest were of human or animal-kind. Some beings were much older and believed far more dangerous.”
― Her Gypsy Promise: A Short Story
― Her Gypsy Promise: A Short Story
“Feathers layered like dragons’ scales,
their symmetry perfectly fledged,
framing slender shoulders; sublime.
A tumble of red tresses shimmer.
Soft wings arch toward the sky.
Once a cherub, she has grown.
A young woman now, strong and lithe.
Powerful with stormy eyes alight,
windswept in her glory.
An angel in body and spirit.
- Winged Justice”
― Feathers, Dreams and Faerie Wings: A Fantasy Poetry Collection
their symmetry perfectly fledged,
framing slender shoulders; sublime.
A tumble of red tresses shimmer.
Soft wings arch toward the sky.
Once a cherub, she has grown.
A young woman now, strong and lithe.
Powerful with stormy eyes alight,
windswept in her glory.
An angel in body and spirit.
- Winged Justice”
― Feathers, Dreams and Faerie Wings: A Fantasy Poetry Collection
“All notions of probable innocence aside, he seemed more at ease again, though somewhat more alert than before. Rudolf looked at her, more serious now.
“A lot of men who kill have got a reason for what they do. Some are forced into it or have a threat hanging over their heads, natural inclinations they can’t ignore or a festering hatred caused by someone or something.”
Cassia wondered about hatred and that fire of anger that smouldered inside of her, wanting to see the Nemorans slaughtered for what they did to her sisters. She didn’t just want justice, she wanted vengeance. Yet, she felt that went beyond hatred into hurt and the desire to protect others from their violence.”
― Fire and Gold
“A lot of men who kill have got a reason for what they do. Some are forced into it or have a threat hanging over their heads, natural inclinations they can’t ignore or a festering hatred caused by someone or something.”
Cassia wondered about hatred and that fire of anger that smouldered inside of her, wanting to see the Nemorans slaughtered for what they did to her sisters. She didn’t just want justice, she wanted vengeance. Yet, she felt that went beyond hatred into hurt and the desire to protect others from their violence.”
― Fire and Gold
“The pieces of the puzzle are visible, but not the grand design. Images flicker and dance like memories, hinting at events to come. They scatter the moment I reach for them only to re-form to taunt me. I who never truly possessed them, nor may I ever.
They do tell me this: a time of great change approaches and it’s not enough to watch. We must act. We can’t count on others to do our work for us or all may be lost.
- Oracle Lilian’s Diary, Winter of 3765”
― Fire and Gold
They do tell me this: a time of great change approaches and it’s not enough to watch. We must act. We can’t count on others to do our work for us or all may be lost.
- Oracle Lilian’s Diary, Winter of 3765”
― Fire and Gold
“The knife; tool of the Thief, Skeben. I believe this is a mark of the prisoner’s guilt.”
There was a howl of “no!” from the prisoner. For the first time, Minister Terell smiled.
“The last rune,” Alexa said, louder. The disc had a simple circle with a dot at its heart. “It’s a mark of the world and the path. What ends will begin anew.”
― Fire and Gold
There was a howl of “no!” from the prisoner. For the first time, Minister Terell smiled.
“The last rune,” Alexa said, louder. The disc had a simple circle with a dot at its heart. “It’s a mark of the world and the path. What ends will begin anew.”
― Fire and Gold
“All notions of probable innocence aside, he seemed more at ease again, though somewhat more alert than before. Rudolf looked at her, more serious now.
“A lot of men who kill have got a reason for what they do. Some are forced into it or have a threat hanging over their heads, natural inclinations they can’t ignore or a festering hatred caused by someone or something.”
Cassia wondered about hatred and that fire of anger that smouldered inside of her, wanting to see the Nemorans slaughtered for what they did to her sisters. She didn’t just want justice, she wanted vengeance. Yet, she felt that went beyond hatred into hurt and the desire to protect others from their violence.”
― Fire and Gold
“A lot of men who kill have got a reason for what they do. Some are forced into it or have a threat hanging over their heads, natural inclinations they can’t ignore or a festering hatred caused by someone or something.”
Cassia wondered about hatred and that fire of anger that smouldered inside of her, wanting to see the Nemorans slaughtered for what they did to her sisters. She didn’t just want justice, she wanted vengeance. Yet, she felt that went beyond hatred into hurt and the desire to protect others from their violence.”
― Fire and Gold
“Feathers layered like dragons’ scales,
their symmetry perfectly fledged,
framing slender shoulders; sublime.
A tumble of red tresses shimmer.
Soft wings arch toward the sky.
Once a cherub, she has grown.
A young woman now, strong and lithe.
Powerful with stormy eyes alight,
windswept in her glory.
An angel in body and spirit.
- Winged Justice”
― Feathers, Dreams and Faerie Wings: A Fantasy Poetry Collection
their symmetry perfectly fledged,
framing slender shoulders; sublime.
A tumble of red tresses shimmer.
Soft wings arch toward the sky.
Once a cherub, she has grown.
A young woman now, strong and lithe.
Powerful with stormy eyes alight,
windswept in her glory.
An angel in body and spirit.
- Winged Justice”
― Feathers, Dreams and Faerie Wings: A Fantasy Poetry Collection
“Cross my palm with silver and I'll tell your fortune. Cross my palm with gold and it will certainly come to be. Cross my palm with iron and you won't live to see daybreak.”
― Her Gypsy Promise: A Short Story
― Her Gypsy Promise: A Short Story
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